Some slain lines become barnacles on the bottom of Charon’s ferryboat.
They wait (wade) for you to bring them back from the River Styx.
Hades has time for one more story.
This idea came from two lines in the guide:
“It’s a writer’s nightmare to think you killed some sentences you shouldn’t have. For now let’s not quibble over spilled digital ink. Unlike milk, we can always put it back in the bottle.”
This is where sentences I loved —witty, weird, lyrical, or just plain mine—go when they’ve been cut from my stories for the greater good.
Think of it as literary purgatory.
They may rise again. Or not.
Either way, they’re getting their due.
💬 Exhibit A: “We were wrong about Titan.”
Original Source: The Dipuwiergus
From: Transient Visitors, Book 3 — Upcoming
This was the original opening line. I had it set up to begin the story, but realized I needed to get the reader into the actual action more quickly. This line was meant for a longer monologue about the past—a moment of reflection that slowed things down before the weird kicked in.
I may not return to Titan. But I might invent a new planet—or a new character—and let this vibe live again.
It’s not gone. Just waiting.